


Birthday

by CrossingInStyle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Pre-Curse, Red - Freeform, Rumbelle Christmas in July, Secret Santa, Smut, and Nottingham, but I'm not tagging them specifically because the fic doesn't really have anything to do with them, rcij, special appearances by
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossingInStyle/pseuds/CrossingInStyle
Summary: Rumplestiltskin has been working to avoid growing feelings for his little maid, but when he learns that it's her birthday, he can't resist granting her a gift. One that may end up changing both their lives.Prompt: Enchanted Forest, Picnic, Cuddles, Summer.Hope you enjoy!





	Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BistaUss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BistaUss/gifts).



> This is my secret santa gift for we-aim-to-misbehave...I hope I have the right ao3 name for them...lol. I was so worried I wouldn't get this finished in time!!! I was really cutting it close!! So there may be a lot of mistakes...but I hope you like it!!!

Silly maid. Fluttering about like some sort of damned fairy.

There wasn’t even any music playing, but she danced and twirled about on her toes like there was.

Still…it was a little impressive how she did that. It must take quite a bit of balance and…oh gods…

_Now_ she was raising her leg up behind her in a way that _couldn’t_ be natural. _Was_ she part fairy?!

“Are you just going to stand there gawking or are you going to put on some music for me to dance to?” Belle asked, startling him, which only made him more annoyed.

“I didn’t bring you here to prance about my ballroom,” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be _dusting_.”

“I am!” she chirped, holding up her feather duster and illustrating by standing on her tip toes to dust a sconce. “As long as it gets done, does it matter _how_ it gets done? I’m only having a bit of fun!”

“Yes, it matters! This is the _Dark Castle_ , dearie, as I keep having to remind you. And in the Dark Castle we do not…”

“Do ballet?” she suggested, quirking on eyebrow.

“Exactly! Now _do your job_!”

He stormed out, pausing outside the door, expecting to hear her mutter irritably. But instead, all she was doing was humming! And when he took another peek back inside, she was dancing again!

It seemed his intrepid little maid had officially lost all fear of him. It didn’t help that he never bothered to reinforce his command, like now, choosing to go back to his tower instead of sparring off with her again about her “cleaning” methods.

Sometimes he almost hoped he _would_ scare her for good one day, causing her to flee. She was far too much work to upkeep, and didn’t even do her job well enough to make it worth it. But he couldn’t just _send_ her home. That would make it look like he was being _kind_. At least in her eyes. Only she could ever look at him and see anything resembling _kind_.

But…it would be awfully quiet if she left. And he’d grown rather accustomed to having his tea served to him every day without needing to ask for it. His own magic didn’t seem to anticipate his needs as much as his little maid did.

A gray dove landed on the windowsill in his tower, cooing in greeting.

“Good evening, Dove,” Rumplestiltskin greeted distractedly. He’d never been able to determine if Dove was magical, a transmogrified human, or simply a particularly intelligent animal, but it had served him well for many years, despite Rumple never bothering to give him a more imaginative name.

Dove had a missive tied to his leg, and flew inside the tower so Rumple could untie it.

He could tell from the writing right away that it was a letter for Belle, from her father. Rumplestiltskin had begun allowing correspondence between Belle and her father. He didn’t quite remember _when_ he’d started allowing it, never mind _why_. But it had made Belle happy, and a happy Belle was a Belle who baked Rumple delicious treats.

However, the second letter Belle received from her father had made her cry, and that was _not_ to be tolerated. Belle belonged to Rumplestiltskin, and only _he_ was allowed to make her cry. After that day, Rumple had taken it upon himself to read the letters before giving them to Belle, to make sure the old coot wasn’t saying anything too hurtful. If Belle knew, she never mentioned it.

Rumple unrolled the letter, scanning the contents with disinterest. He didn’t honestly care _what_ the fool said, so long as it wasn’t anything that would upset Belle, or anything that included plans of helping Belle escape.

The letter was benign, bemoaning the disappearance of Gaston ( _hm, that rose needs watered,_ ) an update on a friend who’d had a baby, ( _she named her Belle. The child had better be pretty,_ ) and finally, how much he misses her, and that he wishes he could be with her on her birthday.

Wait… _birthday_?

He poofed down into the ballroom, surprising Belle in the middle of _actually_ cleaning for once. She jumped backward, dropping her duster which sent a cloud of dust into the air, causing her to cough and splutter.

“You have a birthday?” he asked sharply, ignoring her situation with the dust save for waving some of it away irritably.

Belle dusted off her apron, giving him a dry look. “Erm, doesn’t everyone?”

“ _You know what I mean_ ,” he hissed.

“I’m sorry, Rumple, but I really don’t.”

He took her letter out of his vest pocket, tapping her head with it before handing it to her.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “You _do_ read my letters!” she sounded more vindicated that her beliefs were true than irate about the breech in privacy.

Rumplestiltskin waved again, this time dismissively. “I am lord and master here, it’s my right. Now, answer the question, dearie.”

Belle rolled her eyes, quickly scanning the contents of her letter before tucking it away into the pocket of her apron. “If you’re question is, _do I have a birthday_ , the answer is yes. I do. It’s tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he tilted his head to one side. “And you didn’t see fit to share this bit of information with me?”

Belle scowled and flushed, raising her arms only to let them drop again. “I don’t understand what has you so upset, Rumplestiltskin. Why do you _care_ about my birthday?”

Rumple took a step back, twirling his fingers. “I…don’t. I just like to know all there is to know about those in my employ, that’s all.”

“Oh…well…” Belle was still blushing, but her irritation had faded. “Now you know. When is yours, Rumplestiltskin?”

He giggled, though it annoyingly lacked any of the menacing quality he normally went for. “After 200 years, dearie, a year in the life is meaningless. I have long forgotten.”

“Oh…that’s…sort of sad. You could share mine, if you like,” she said.

Rumple blinked, having been taken aback. “I…what would I need to share _your_ birthday for?! Eh…get back to work!”

With that he poofed out of the room once more, reappearing just on the other side of the door. He peeked back in, expecting to see her huff and puff in aggravation, which was _so_ much fun to see. But instead she was only standing in the middle of the ballroom, a feather duster in her hand, and the look on her face did something to Rumplestiltskin’s blackened heart that made him step away and gasp.

 

Belle was quiet when she served him dinner that night. Not angry, not sulky, just…quiet.

“How was your letter from your father?” he asked, awkwardly trying to coax a little life out of her. He wasn’t used to her being this way.

“Oh, fine,” she said, smiling weakly, before pasting on an unconvincing scowl. “But then you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, I only skim the things to check for plots against me, that’s all,” he huffed. “Can’t have you and he discussing all my secrets, now can I?”

“Well, if you’ve been reading all my letters, then I think you should know by now that I wouldn’t do that to you, Rumplestiltskin.”

He opened his mouth for another witty retort, but it dried up in his throat. “I haven’t…read _your_ letters, dearie,” he said lowly. “Only his.”

“Why would you only…” she trailed off, and he didn’t like that calculating gleam in her eyes. Mostly because it was starting to look startlingly like his own. “Ever since he sent that awful letter accusing me of…well, you know,” she shrugged uncomfortably. “You’ve made sure he didn’t say anything like that again.”

He scowled at how easily she saw through him, and scowled deeper at the memory of the letter that had made her cry. _Whore_ …that was the word her father had used. He’d accused her of willingly being the Dark One’s _whore_.

“I don’t know why you still communicate with him,” he growled. “A father wouldn’t say such things to his child.”

“A father _shouldn’t_ ,” Belle agreed. “But he did apologize. I think he was only scared. Maybe it’s odd, but he’s still my father. I love him, even though he’s done terrible things.”

Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure how to respond to that. On one hand, he could only hope his son could still love him, despite the evil things he’d done. On the other…he understood Belle’s feelings so acutely it hurt. Damn him to Hades if he didn’t still feel a sick inkling of love for the bastard who’d made him.

“It isn’t odd,” he said. “You _are_ an odd girl, Belle, but not for that.”

Belle giggled, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing back her smile.

“Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. I think I’m going to do these dishes now and go on to bed, unless there’s anything else you need?”

Rumple waved away the dirty dishes with a flick of his wrist. “There is… _one_ thing…a present, if you will.”

“A present?” Belle asked, one brow arched suspiciously.

Rumplestiltskin stood, reaching down a hand to draw her to her feet. “It _is_ your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Yes…but you said you didn’t care about that.”

“I don’t,” he protested, unconvincing even to his own ears. “But you’ll have your gift anyway. Your gift, Belle, is a wish.”

Belle smirked. “A wish? Are you going to be my fairy godmother now?”

Rumplestiltskin sneered. “ _Don’t_ liken me to those infernal _bugs_. Do you want your gift or not?!”

“Yes, I do!” she exclaimed, giggling. “What sort of wish? What are the rules?”

“No rules…” he began, but quickly amended them. “Wait, if it endangers _me_ or takes my power, the wish is null and void.”

Belle scowled. “You know I wouldn’t do anything like that, Rumple.”

“I haven’t lived this long to be careless about details, dearie. I give you the night to think over your wish, and in the morning you’ll present it to me, and I will grant it. No price.”

Belle bit her lip, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Deal! I can’t wait!”

He chuckled, watching her spin and scamper off to bed. He knew fine well what Belle would wish for. In fact, he was counting on it.

He pointedly hadn’t added a clause that she couldn’t wish for her freedom, so he knew that’s what she would pick.

Oh, she might be sweet and wish only to be allowed to go into town alone. Which…honestly, if she asked, he would have allowed it anyway. But this was her chance to take her freedom by the hands, and even wish for money and provisions so she could see the world, like she longed to. Like she deserved.

Rumplestiltskin didn’t normally sleep, but he went to his room anyway, resigned to spending his last night in a home with the warmth Belle brought just by being there.

He didn’t even know _why_ he’d made her his price for her father’s deal in the first place. He had no actual need for a maid, and he wasn’t quite monster enough to imprison a woman to satiate his physical needs. She also possessed no magic, provided no use in his quest for his son, but the moment his eyes had landed on her, something in him…maybe it was his foresight, maybe it was the way she was brave enough to look him in the eye but shrank away from her hulk of a fiancé, or merely just stupid impulsiveness had made him say “ _her_.”

It was for the best anyway. With Belle out of the way, he could concentrate fully on shaping Regina into the perfect pawn to cast his curse, and reunite with his son at last.

It might have been nice to do it with Belle at his side, but Rumple hadn’t been alive as long as he had to believe in such foolish fantasies.

 

She found him spinning, as usual. Rumplestiltskin had been there most of the night, trying to get a head start on _forgetting_. But the morning came whether he wanted it to or not, and here came Belle, skipping into the ballroom like a child on Christmas. Or…a child on her birthday, rather.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the birthday girl. Have you turned ten years old already?”

Belle fixed him with a sardonic look. “Surely you don’t think that. Perhaps I’m young to _you_ but I happen to be twenty-five years old, today. Thankyouverymuch.”

Rumple _was_ surprised, actually. He knew fine well she wasn’t _ten,_ but he _had_ thought she was younger. Somehow it comforted him, made him feel slightly less guilty for some of those less-than-appropriate daydreams he tended to have without wanting to. Slightly less.

“An old maid,” he joked, earning a laugh from her, where most women probably would have been angry. “Have you decided on your wish?”

“I have!” she chirped, holding her hands behind her back and bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly.

He got up, slowly, like the old man he was, and went to stand before her, hands ready to poof her into town, or Agrabah, or wherever she wanted to go. “Well?”

“I wish,” she began. “…And I’m going to be very specific, so you can’t back out!”

“I’ve taught you well,” he praised.

“I wish, for you, Rumplestiltskin, to spend the _whole_ day with me. I’d like to go outside, and I’d like the weather to be nice. _I know you can do that_. I want to go swimming and have a picnic. I want to have cake, and I want you to eat some too. I want you to _not_ pretend, all day. That means you can’t pretend you’re angry if you’re not, but neither should you pretend to have fun, if you’re not. I wish for you to be yourself. Your _real_ self. All day. And I’d like you to pick activities as well, because today is _your_ birthday too, Rumplestiltskin. It’s part of the wish.”

Rumple stood, stock still, waiting for her to laugh and say she was kidding. “That…that’s it?”

He gaped in shock as she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket to peruse, before nodding in satisfaction. “Yes, I think that just about covers it. Is my wish granted?”

He felt his magic grant the wish before he could even answer, the deal taking hold, removing his ability to hide his true feelings. He didn’t think she _meant_ to do that, but in order not to pretend, Rumple could not _lie_.

“I…I thought…” he shook his head. “ _That’s_ your wish? Not…not to…go free?”

“Why would I wish that?” she asked, looking genuinely befuddled. “I made a deal. I won’t break that, not even for a birthday wish. This is what I want, Rumple, and you said there were no rules, so long as it didn’t affect your safety or powers. Does it?”

“No,” he admitted. “It…doesn’t. So…I suppose…we’re going on…a picnic?”

Belle squealed in delight, declaring she would go and get a basket prepared if he would please find a suitable picnic blanket. She was then gone almost as quickly as he could magic away, and he was left in a sort of dazed stupor, wondering how the _hell_ he’d gone from preparing himself to never see her again, to taking her on a picnic and agreeing to spend the entire day at her beck and call. Alright, perhaps _that_ wasn’t exactly in the agreement, but what else could he do but as she wished?

Bemused and confused, he found himself sorting through a mostly unused closet for a blanket that could serve for her picnic, and then in an equally baffling manner was suddenly waiting beside the kitchen door.

Belle skipped up to him, a large picnic hamper hanging from the crook of her arm, but her ecstatic smile waned slightly when she caught sight of his face.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “I…I don’t really want to make you do something you really don’t want to. I made that clear in the wish, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he assured her, heart stuttering to realize he was totally incapable of hiding his feelings from her, and he felt the first sting of panic rise up in his chest. “I’m just…confused, Belle. Out of anything you could have wished for. To be free to go to town, to see your father, or friends. Gods, you could have even wished not to have to work anymore. You chose _this_?”

Belle smirked. “Well, to be completely honest, the never working again part never occurred to me. I would be lying if I said that wouldn’t have been a pretty good one,” she giggled. “But _yes_ , you silly Dark One. This is what I want. I want to get to _know_ you. The real you that I know is in there, not the impish façade you put up for everyone else. The real you who intercepts letters from my father just to make sure they won’t hurt me. The you who gave me an entire library just because I like books. The you who makes me laugh, then looks so boyishly pleased about it. Would it be… _so_ bad? I don’t have to know all your deep, dark secrets, Rumplestiltskin. I’d be happy just to see you loosen up and have a little bit of fun for once.”

“Fun,” he scoffed. “Fun for me has been turning people into snails for longer than your great-grandfather has been alive.”

Belle scrunched up her face. “My great-grandfather _isn’t_ alive, Rumple.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Well, there won’t be anyone you can turn into snails, but you could practice turning snails into…I don’t know, butterflies or something.”

Rumple huffed. “Can I turn them into wasps instead?”

“Make it honeybees and I could bake you some honey cakes!”

“…you have yourself a deal, dearie.”

 

As per the deal, Rumple used his power to make the normally cold and rainy environment around the castle bright and sunny, and just warm enough to be comfortable without being hot.

He followed Belle about bemusedly as she hunted for “just the right spot.”

“What’s wrong with over there?” he asked, pointing toward a shady tree.

“Not enough grass,” she replied.

“There’s grass over there.”

“Not enough _shade_.”

“For the love of…” Rumple twirled his hand, making a large willow tree appear near the lake, just over a plush patch of grass.

“Perfect!” Belle chirped, grinning at him and practically skipping toward the spot before busily spreading out a blanket. “I’ve packed chicken sandwiches, and some of those pecan pinwheels you like so much. Also lemonade, and wine!”

“Oh,” suddenly much more interested, he dug into the pinwheels first, surprised when Belle didn’t slap his hand away for eating dessert first. Like she normally did.

“Knock yourself out,” she said, helping herself to a pinwheel as well. “It’s _our_ birthday, after all.”

“You forgot the cake,” Rumple said between bites.

“Cake?”

“You specifically said in your wish that you wanted to eat cake.”

She giggled. “Oh, well, I didn’t actually have time to bake a cake but…”

Before she could finish her sentence, a chocolate cake with blue frosting appeared in front of her, candles alight.

“A deal is a deal,” he said, smirking.

“But I already made my wish,” she said, sliding the cake closer to him. “You blow out the candles.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Dark Ones do not blow out birthday candles.”

“Oh really?” Belle droned, arching a brow. “Is that written in some ancient Dark One text somewhere? _Perish thee that blow out thy birthday candle?_ ”

“You’re growing very sarcastic these days, do you know that? Fine, I’ll blow out the silly candles.”

He took a breath and blew out all the candles in one go, hearing her giggle in delight and wondering why until he realized he still had his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

“What did you wish for?!” she asked.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he twilled, raising a finger. “If I tell, it won’t come true. Everyone knows that.” In truth he’d actually forgotten to make the wish. He hadn’t blown out a birthday candle in…actually, he didn’t think he’d _ever_ blown out a birthday candle.

“Fine,” Belle huffed, but he could plainly see that she was teasing. “Let’s save the cake for later. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Me? This is _your_ wish.”

“Remember? I specifically said I wanted to do things _you_ like to do, too. We’re here, that’s one for me. Now it’s your turn.”

Rumplestiltskin sighed and rested his back against the tree, thinking. As per the deal he couldn’t refuse, but what did _he_ like to do? He liked to make deals, and gain power, and spin. None of those things, however, were probably what his little maid had in mind, so he tried to think of something benign enough that would please her, yet not make him cringe.

“How about…a walk?” he offered after a time. “It truly _is_ summer beyond the Dark Forest.”

“Really? That’s what you want to do?” she asked a little in disbelief. “Well, alright, let’s go!”

They left their picnic, enchanted to be protected from ants and other scavengers, and strolled into the forest, away from the grounds of the Dark Castle.

Belle skipped along merrily, collecting wildflowers that she came across, and Rumple found that he truly didn’t mind the activity. The weather _was_ pleasant, and she was rather entertaining to watch.

“What’s the last birthday you remember celebrating, Rumplestiltskin?” she asked conversationally as she plucked some daisies.

His breath hitched when he found that his automatic answer of “I don’t know,” stuck in his throat. _Damn_ it! He couldn’t lie!

But when he hesitated, she glanced up, no doubt finding him casting about in panic, and her face softened. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Oh…well then. They continued on for a moment in silence, and Rumple found to his own astonishment that he didn’t really mind telling her.

“My…erm…son,” he spoke at last, breaking the silence and making her look up in surprise. “He baked me a cake. Or _tried_ to, rather. Completely inedible, it was,” he chuckled, remembering fondly the sticky texture and overpowering taste of molasses when the boy had been unable to find sugar instead. “But I ate it anyway, of course. Every bite, and asked for more. He was just so proud of it. And he made me a necklace out of yarn as my present. I wore that thing every day until I lost it in the fields at some point…” he trailed off, touching the spot where the soft yarn had rested against his throat for so long as if he’d lost it yesterday, tasted the cake yesterday instead of hundreds of years ago.

“That sound like a lovely birthday,” Belle whispered when it seemed his story was over.

“It was,” he agreed without looking at her. “We played games and stayed up far past his bedtime that night. It was…it was…” his mouth was beginning to run away from him, and he tried to stop himself, but wasn’t entirely sure if he _couldn’t_ , or didn’t want to. “It was my last birthday with him. It was the last birthday I ever celebrated.”

Neither spoke for a while, and Rumplestiltskin was just amazed the world didn’t end because he’d shared his past with his maid.

“My last birthday with my mother,” Belle said. “We took a picnic, just her and me. She told me stories of her youth, even scandalous things that had us both blushing and giggling. I’d never felt closer to her than I did then. It’s my favorite birthday memory.”

Ah, so that was it. Rumple glanced down at her at last, finding her looking a little wilted, and wracked his brain for a way to bring back her cheery mood, though why he wanted to so badly was anybody’s guess.

He plucked a few of the flowers from her hands as they walked, and she watched in interest as his deft fingers turned them into a crown which he perched atop her busy little head.

And that was all it took to have her grinning in delight and sticking a flower behind his ear before laughing even harder.

“Oh no, no, no,” he scoffed, removing the bloom. “White does nothing for my complexion. I would prefer yellow, if you please.”

Barely able to for all her laughing, Belle exchanged the white daisy for a big, bright, yellow one, and they continued on their way.

Just when he was about to suggest they turn back, they heard the unmistakable sound of a wagon approaching. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the trees, pressing her against one of the trunks to be assured her blue dress was hidden from view.

Rumplestiltskin snorted once he saw who was on the wagon. “It’s that fool, the Sheriff of Nottingham. What is _he_ doing in his part of the Enchanted Forest, I wonder?”

When Belle didn’t respond to his rhetorical question, he glanced down to find her staring at him curiously, and only _then_ realized that they were pressed flush together, faces barely an inch apart.

He flew away from her as if she’d suddenly turned to molten lava, and brushed his hands down his coat to cover his discomfort.

“Come, Belle, I have no desire to deal with that idiot today,” he said, though he _would_ find out why Nottingham was in the area…tomorrow.

“Oh, come on,” Belle cajoled, and he didn’t think she could possibly realize how alluring she sounded when she talked like that. “Whatever he’s up to, I doubt it’s anything good. Wouldn’t you like to have a little fun?”

“Fun?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

Belle winked, and she _really_ needed to stop that. Had she _no_ clue what that could do to a man? Or a… _him_? “Consider it my gift to you. Now come on, and follow my lead.”

Disconcerted but admittedly very intrigued, he followed Belle at a trot until they came out ahead of the wagon, which held not only Nottingham but an assortment of equally as slimy looking lackeys.

He watched in shock as she stepped out in front of the wagon. Was she trying to get herself _killed_?!

“Whoa,” Nottingham called, stopping the horses several feet away.

“Hello, boys,” Belle said in an overly coquettish manner. “What are you handsome lot doing way out here?” she was so over the top it was hilarious, and Rumple had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“What are _you_ doing out here?” one of the men asked, suspicious, but eyeing her lecherously.

Belle sighed dramatically and waved toward the wood. “My husband dragged me all the way out here to live, and then he went and _died_ on me! And I’ve been _so lonely_ ever since!”

Just _what_ the hell was this woman up to?!

“Lonely, eh?” Nottingham asked, grinning like a wolf. And of _course_ a man as priggish and self-centered as he would _recognize_ her. He hopped down from the carriage, strutting up to her like a rooster. “Why don’t you come along with us? We’ll take _good_ care of ya.”

“Yeah!” another of the men crowed. “You won’t be lonely with us!”

Nottingham took another step toward her, and Rumple tensed. He was waiting for some kind of sign from Belle, but damned if he’d allow that degenerate to _touch_ her.

“Why don’t you and I take a little walk right now?” Nottingham said. “I’ve got a delivery to make, but I care spare some time. I’ll make you forget _all_ about being lonely.”

Belle smirked. “And you’ll only need, what, twenty minutes?”

Nottingham blinked, then his eyes widened, and Rumple thought that was sign enough before appearing suddenly behind him.

“Coveting my maid _again_ , Nottingham?”

Nottingham screamed (like a girl,) as did his friends, and he spun around, face paling.

He turned back toward Belle as if to run, but Rumple disappeared and reappeared just behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t turn to look at him, just tilted her chin up and leaned into him as if this were a normal occurrence, and Nottingham paled even more.

“I don’t think he wants to play anymore,” Belle pouted, sounding a little like one of those crazy tree nymphs. It was fantastic.

“N…n…no…” Nottingham stammered. “I swear, Dark One, I didn’t know she was…if I’d recognized her…”

“Hear that?!” Belle snapped, craning her neck to look at him. “He didn’t even recognize me!”

“How insulting,” Rumple cooed, patting her shoulder comfortingly. God, how _brilliant_ was she? When she looked at him, he could see how her eyes sparkled with mischievousness. She meant no harm, of course. He would not be killing or otherwise maiming Nottingham today, but she was helping him to torment the pig and it was downright _fun_.

“He was just about to tell me of the delivery he was making,” she said pointedly. Ah, yes, his reason for being in this forest, which was no doubt no _good_.

“It’s…it’s nothing,” Nottingham said. “Nothing to do you with you, Dark One…or…or _you_ …erm…my Lady. Tell them, boys!”

“Your _boys_ are long gone,” Rumple chirped, jerking his chin in the direction of Nottingham’s abandoned wagon.

Just then, came a weak _“help!”_ from inside the wagon, and Rumple could feel Belle’s sudden intake of breath.

He let her go, but watched her closely as she ran toward the wagon, ready to spirit her away the moment it was even hinted at being a trap.

She opened the latch on the side, and opened a small door, sticking her head inside and emerging again followed by a young woman, bound in multiple chains which looked rather excessive considering she was barely more than a girl and slim for all that she was quite tall.

_“Thank_ you!” the woman sighed in relief, paused when she caught sight of Rumplestiltskin looking more exasperated than scared, which was curious. “Unless…are _you_ who he was taking me to?”

Rumplestiltskin snorted. “Please, I don’t need _another_ maid,” he waved his hand, vanishing her chains, but kept a wary eye on her and tried to beckon Belle closer to him with just his eyes.

“Shit,” Nottingham hissed, backing away as if to flee, but Rumple made the woman’s chains reappear around his feet.

“Why did he have you locked up?” Belle asked, all pretense of the game gone in favor of concern.

The girl was glaring like a wolf at Nottingham, and that, along with the red cloak made him remember why she looked familiar. “You’re Snow White’s friend,” he said. “The wolf girl.”

“Red,” she corrected. “And I know who _you_ are too, Rumplestiltskin. So what do I owe you, for saving me?”

“I didn’t save you,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “ _She_ did,” Belle had finally gotten his hint and returned to him, standing before him like before, though she had to know how possessive of her it made him look. “Belle? What price shall you accept?”

Red eyed Belle in a mixture of suspicion and awe, and then she suddenly focused her sharp eyes first on Belle’s flower crown, then on the daisy that still rested behind his ear. “I don’t have much…but I suppose if you should need the services of a werewolf…”

“How about tea?!” Belle exclaimed suddenly. “Could you come for tea? Rumple, is it okay? I could meet her in garden if you would prefer instead of inside the castle…”

“Tea?” Red asked, brow raised, and he thought he also saw her speculatively mouth “ _Rumple?”_

“I believe she would like your presence for tea,” Rumple said in resignation. He knew the girl to be safe enough provided it wasn’t Wolfstime, and he didn’t think she could learn anything about him in Belle’s company that her friends didn’t already know from invading the castle constantly with all their complaining. Charming had even seen Belle, so she was no secret either.

“That…that’s your price? You want me to come over for tea?”

Belle nodded excitedly. “Next Tuesday?”

Red sighed and shrugged. “Well, alright. I’ll see you Tuesday then. What about _him_?” Nottingham was still desperately trying to escape his chains.

“What do you think?” Rumple asked, resting his hands on Belle’s shoulders again.

“I was _going_ to suggest a snail,” Belle said, smirking again, and Nottingham doubled his efforts to escape. “But I think Red here has more reason to be angry than us. What say we let her deal with him?”

“Excellent idea. And it’s even Wolfstime, still. Dearie?”

“Sounds good to me,” Red said, beginning to remove her cloak.

“We should give him a running chance, though,” Belle said.

“I agree,” Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and Notthingham’s chains vanished. Before the smoke had even cleared Nottingham was on his feet and running, soon following by a massive Wolf.

“She seemed nice,” Belle said once the pair had gone, and they turned back for the castle.

“Yes, if you _had_ to make a new friend and invite her to my castle, I suppose it may as well be her.”

 

When they returned to their picnic, Rumplestiltskin was in a better mood than he thought he’d ever been. The game with Nottingham has been most enjoyable, more so since it had been sweet little Belle’s idea.

“What next?” he asked her after they’d eaten their sandwiches. “It’s your turn.”

Belle looked out at the glistening lake, and turned back to him with another of those mischievous smirks that he was quickly finding that he was quite weak for.

“Let’s go swimming!” she declared.

“Uh…all right,” he said, feeling like this was probably _not_ a good idea considering the mood she was in. “You go, I’ll…uh…watch.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, shaking her head. “Swimming was part of the wish and I said _we_ so you have to come too!”

Rumplestiltskin grumbled but didn’t really put up much of a fight as she grabbed his hand and led him to the lake.

“Surely you’re not going to swim in that?” he asked her, pointing to her dress. “You’ll drown.”

“Of course not,” she said, and as long as Rumple had been alive, and as long as he’d had the gift of Sight, he’d thought he’d reached the point where he couldn’t really be _shocked_ anymore. He was wrong.

“What are you doing?!” he exclaimed, turning away from the preposterous woman as she _stripped off her clothes_.

“Going swimming,” she said. “How did you _expect_ me to swim? It’s not like they make clothes special for swimming.”

“They should,” he muttered, wondering if he could quickly invent something. He heard more swishes of cloth and… _surely_ she was keeping on her shift…wasn’t she?!

He heard a bit more movement, and then a splash, but he still kept his eyes locked firmly at a squirrel in a nearby tree.

“You can look now!” she called, humor plain in her voice. “Funny, I didn’t think the Dark One could blush!”

“I’m not blushing!” he snapped, turning to look at her and seeing her shoulders bare above the water. He looked down, and sure enough…there was her shift.

He busied himself gathering her clothes up off the ground to hide the fact his face _was_ hot, and Gods, how old was he again?! Like he’d never seen a naked woman before! And one naked woman was no different than any other naked woman. Or so he kept telling himself.

“Aren’t you coming?” she called.

“Oh no,” he said, slowly hanging her dress on a branch. “It’s your birthday, I’d hate to traumatize you by removing _my_ clothes.”

“I won’t look,” Belle said, and he could tell she wasn’t convinced by his dismissive tone. “Or, you could swim in your clothes. I would never ask you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

But _she_ was comfortable removing her clothes before _him_? What a strange girl. Well, now he felt challenged, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Turn away.”

He looked at her only to see that she was turned dutifully away, and had her eyes covered with her hands for good measure. Was he seriously about to do this? She’d told him he could wear clothes, which released him from the deal that compelled him to do as she wished, but he knew she wanted him to play, and _this_ was her chosen game. He didn’t think she meant anything _suggestive_ about any of it. How could she? So he took a deep breath and vanished away his clothes, wading into the water – keeping a safe distance from her, and telling her it was safe to turn around once the water covered his shoulders.

Belle turned around, but her eyes were still closed. _Good_.

“Jack!” she called.

“Jack?” Rumple echoed. “Are you expecting someone else?”

Belle giggled. “No, silly! I say Jack, you say Jill. Haven’t you ever played?”

He shrugged, but her eyes were still closed, so he said, “No…”

“It’s a game! I say Jack, and you have to say Jill in answer. We keep that up until I tag you. Jack!”

“This is absurd.”

She moved toward him, arms outstretched and eyes firmly closed. “Well, I suppose you can say whatever, so long as I can hear you, but you have to try and get away. Jack!”

“No problem there,” he said, quickly swimming just out of her reach.

“Jack! And _no_ poofing away!”

He had been just about to do that very thing, and grumbled in response. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re a cheater. Jack!”

“Jill,” he gave in and said at last, just narrowly moving away from her questing fingers.

He kept backing away, staying _just_ out of reach, but careful not to move the water too much after the first time nearly gave him a glimpse of something he had no business looking at.

“Jack!” she squealed, diving for him.

“Jill,” he responded, effortlessly moving away another step until he found his back pressed against a boulder, with no easy way of escape that wouldn’t take her right past him.

“Jack,” she said, unintentionally moving closer to him, and frowning when he didn’t answer. “You can’t stay quiet, Rumple. That’s against the rules.”

“Jill,” he said, and she jumped at the nearness of his voice and spun around, her hands landing on his chest.

“Got you!” she exclaimed, opening her eyes, then stilled.

He was still too, feeling his brain begin to short out at the nearness of her unclothed body and eyes just as blue as the water around them. He wanted to push her away, _needed_ to, but couldn’t get his limbs to obey. And she…foolish girl she was…wasn’t moving away either. What was wrong with her? How could she not want to get her hands off his repulsive skin immediately? And why was she looking at him like that?!

Instead of moving away, she moved _closer_ , and he could feel her breasts against him and oh…oh no…this was bad. Very bad. If she got any closer she’d feel something he _knew_ would scare her off for good.

She was using the leverage of her hands on his shoulders to pull herself slightly up, and he squeezed his eyes shut before he could see anything, attempting a weak, “My turn. Jack.”

He’d thought, _hoped_ , she would squeal and run away then, though how he’d be able to play her game a reach for her naked body _with his eyes closed_ he had no clue, but she still wasn’t leaving.

“Jill,” she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his face.

He had to do something, had to before something happened he wouldn’t have the strength to stop. Something she could only regret.

When her thigh brushed against where he was hard and heavy, he just knew that’d be it. Surely that would be too much for her. Maybe she was too naïve to know what that meant? Oh please don’t let her ask him about it.

But she didn’t ask, she didn’t flee, she didn’t do anything that was right or predictable. No, instead, her lips touched his, and if he was capable of having a heart attack, he knew he’d be having one.

“W…what are you doing?” he asked, opening his eyes at last.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, and _how_ could she look so innocent and so beguiling at the same time with her wet hair dripping into her face and her skin prickled with gooseflesh.

He wanted to say yes. _Needed_ to say yes. This was bad. Very bad. He’d been trying to _free_ her, damn him! This was the opposite of freeing! This was binding her more firmly to him than anything before. She couldn’t even know what she was offering. She probably only wanted kisses to satiate her curiosity, and he was the only one around available to give them. She couldn’t know what his body was demanding he take from her. He thought the demons in his head would be howling for her now if they hadn’t suddenly gone strangely silent the moment she kissed him.

“Belle, you don’t know what you’re doing,” he croaked.

Her eyes flashed dangerously then, and he howled all on his own when her little hand wrapped around him, squeezing tightly.

“I’m a virgin, but not a blushing one,” she said, beginning to stroke him clumsily but with determination. “I’ve gotten my hands on _all_ sorts of books, Rumplestiltskin. And I’ve quite the imagination, as well. I _know_ you want me, this tells me that,” she gave him another squeeze and he groaned, capitulating with frightening swiftness. “But maybe your mind or your heart don’t,” she let him go then, and instead of being relieved he whimpered pathetically. “And if that’s the case, give me the word, and I’ll stop.”

Gods…he was stuck. He couldn’t lie to her, and he couldn’t hide his feelings. Not even for her own sake. “I want you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But I’m afraid this isn’t what _you_ really want. I’m afraid you’ll regret it. You probably will, when I don’t suddenly become the type of man you must want.”

“What I _want_ , Rumplestiltskin, is you,” she said, looping her arms around his neck. “I know who and what you are, and I’m not afraid of you. If you _truly_ wish to stop…for whatever reason, we’ll stop. I know the deal is making it so you can’t hide from me. I don’t want this if you’re feeling compelled in any way.”

“I’m not,” he whispered, feeling every carefully built defense start to crumble.

“Then what do you want, Rumplestiltskin?”

His mouth crashed against hers, swallowing up her startled gasp. Her legs wrapped of their own free will around his waist, and he grabbed a handful of her arse to hold her to him.

She may have been a virgin, but she was no stranger to kissing. _That_ much he could tell. But he didn’t care. Suddenly he didn’t care about anything but the feel of her skin on his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth.

This was a bad idea. It could only end badly. But to hell with it. It was their birthday, after all.

He turned around so her back was against the rock, and lifted her up a little so he could pull back and take a look at the breasts he’d been trying to avoid seeing. She chuckled and arched her back, pushing them closer to his face, and well, what else could he do but kiss them?

“I didn’t plan this,” she whispered, breath coming in pants as he fastened his lips around a nipple. “I didn’t lure you in here for this.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he growled, switching to her other breast so he could nip it playfully. “You just took off all your clothes, bade me to do the same…”

“All _right_ ,” she laughed. “Maybe I had designs, but they were mostly wishful thinking.”

“Maybe this is what _I_ wished for,” he said, kissing her lips again.

It caused an odd sensation, not just quieting the voices in his head but making him feel lighter somehow. He would have liked to ponder it, but Belle was moaning and writhing in his grasp and this was _far_ more important.

He found a foothold in the stone and pushed them both up so that Belle was sitting on the rock, every inch of her bared to his view. Normally he would have been mortified that she could see him too, but strangely enough, he wasn’t. She was looking at a point on his face, tilting her head to one side.

“What is it?” he asked her, ready to release her and bolt the moment she decided he wasn’t to her liking.

“There’s something different about your skin.”

“Is it…bad?”

She shook her head, then smiled. “No, come here.”

He lifted himself further out of the water and pressed her back onto the boulder, kissing every inch of skin he could access in the process. Belle gasped and sighed as he moved down her body, licking and nipping, but then she tensed once he lowered until his head was between her thighs.

“What…” she began.

“I thought you read _all sorts of books_ ,” he teased. “Surely you’ve read something of _this_.”

“Well…yes…but…I didn’t think men actually _wanted_ to…”

“If they don’t, they’re fools,” he said. “But tell me no, Belle, if it isn’t what you want,” he wanted to make sure she understood that _she_ had the same power to stop that she gave him.

In lieu of answer, she whimpered and parted her legs farther for him.

If he’d still been unsure, the sight of her flushed and swollen already wet for _him_ would have been enough to chase the rest of his doubts out of his head. He pressed a feather-light kiss to her first, to get her used to the touch, then applied more and more pressure until his mouth opened to take its first taste.

He’d done this enough times to know how to do it _well_ , but never in his long life had he _loved_ it as much as now. The taste, the feel, the way she whimpered and wriggled, it was the most glorious thing he’d ever experienced.

So wound up and responsive was she that it was a matter of moments before she was coming apart with a throaty cry that went straight to his cock.

“Rumple…” she cried, reached down for him.

Instead of climbing atop her, he pulled her back into the water with him, and she hissed at the cold on her heated skin.

“Rumple,” she repeated, eyes barely open more than a slit. “Want you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I need you to say the words, Belle. I need you to be sure.”

“I want you,” she said more firmly. “I want you in me, please.”

Rumplestiltskin groaned, nearly unraveled by her words alone. He lifted her up, letting the weightlessness of the water keep him from moving too fast and hurting her. He entered her slowly…carefully…watching her for any sign of pain.

Her face scrunched up in discomfort, and he paused, but then her legs were tightening around him and she pushed herself downward, taking all of him.

His groan sounded foreign to his own ears, and he had to hold her tightly to keep her from moving and making this end far too soon for his taste. Once he felt a little more in control, he began to buck up into her, but he mostly let her set the pace, which quickly turned to more writhing than thrusting and honestly he wasn’t complaining.

She was _incredible_ lost in passion as she was, and he couldn’t believe that he was able to bring her pleasure like this. With Milah he’d never been able to bring her to climax except with his fingers and mouth and with Cora…well…he later suspected her of a lot of faking.

He shook his head, banning those other women from his thoughts as he gloried in Belle. His Belle.

He was quickly nearing the precipice, but he was determined she should find her own release again before he found his, and he snaked his hand down between him to do just that.

When she threw back her head and howled, he howled with her, coming harder than he ever had in all his centuries of life.

For a long, long time, neither of them moved or spoke. He had his face buried in her hair as securely as hers was buried in his, and they held each other like that as they drifted in the water.

Eventually though, he felt her body begin to cool, and he gradually unwound himself from her.

“We should…” he forgot what he was going to say when her eyes rounded to saucers. “What? What is it?”

“Rumple…” she breathed. “Your skin…”

“What? Is it extra sparkly or something?”

“No…it’s…darling _look_.”

He was distracted momentarily by the endearment, but looked at his hand, astounded to find it weathered and tan, instead of green and scaly. “What…”

“What happened?” Belle asked. “Your hair and eyes are different too! I mean…they’re still lovely but…”

For a moment, Rumple panicked. The sudden silence of the voices in his head made sense. They’d somehow managed to actually _break_ the Dark One’s curse! His instinct was to rage and cry, because without his curse, he was without power, and he needed power to reach his son…

But…he didn’t feel any less _powerful_. In fact, he felt more in control of that power than ever before.

Just to test it out, he transported them both out of the water, and they reappeared on their picnic blanket, fully dry and clothed.

“I still have magic,” he said awe.

“Were you afraid you wouldn’t?” Belle asked. “You looked pretty frightened there for a moment.”

Rumplestiltskin chuckled, which soon turned into a full-throated laugh. Not a maniacal giggle, but a laugh like he hadn’t been capable of in a very long time. Belle’s eyes softened at the sound of it, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “You broke it, Belle. You broke the curse.”

“I didn’t even know you _were_ cursed!”

“I didn’t think the curse could be broken without stripping me of my power, but it has.”

Belle had looked a little unsure and tense, but soon relaxed into his embrace. “Why do you need it?”

He sighed. “I’ll tell you Belle, I’ll tell you everything. But what say we just finish enjoying your birthday?”

She seemed to be coming to terms with his appearance, and grinned. “ _Our_ birthday! Ready for cake?”

“Is this…okay?” he asked. He had to be sure. “I know I’m not very…impressive to look at,” just to make sure he could, he cast a glamour to turn himself back into the imp, and pitched his voice. “I can go about like this, if you prefer.”

She giggled and shook her head. “As much as I like you and your sparkly skin and silly ways, I think I’d quite like to get to know you the way you really are. Besides, your brown eyes are incredibly beautiful.”

Rumple let the glamour fade and knew now that he was truly blushing. No one had ever said that about his eyes before.

“How did the curse break, anyway?” Belle asked, leaning up to kiss him.

“Like that, I suppose,” he said. “True Loves Kiss breaks any curse, that’s all I know.”

Belle’s eyes widened again, and lit up like the sun. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He hadn’t honestly _meant_ to say it that way, but found to his own pleasure that it was indeed very true, and had been for a long time. “I love you, Belle.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered, and just when he thought she was going to kiss him again, his mouth was instead met with a piece of cake, which she smushed into his face for good measure. And now _she_ was laughing maniacally.

“Hm, tasty,” he said, licking the frosting off his lips. “But I think it’d taste a lot better off of _you_.”

 

They enjoyed the rest of their day cuddling and talking and learning what it’s like to be in love and know it.

When they finally went back to the castle, Rumple though that everything seemed brighter, prettier. But it was probably just because he was happy for the first time in longer than he could tell. They parted ways only briefly to prepare for bed, Rumple finding he was actually _tired_ for once, but it seemed natural that they would go together to her bedroom.

When he laid with her in his arms, he felt so peaceful, yet so ready to complete his plan to find Baelfire. He would tell her the whole sordid story in the morning, and she would probably be unhappy about his methods, but he wasn’t afraid she would turn from him.

Well…not _very_ afraid.

Just on the cusp of sleep Belle tapped his shoulder, asking if he was awake. He was completely awake in an instant, thinking (hoping) that perhaps she was ready for a round three.

But instead she was holding several strands of thread, all braided together. It wasn’t any of his gold thread, although it _was_ golden in color, and he wondered if it came from her old ballgown.

I know it can’t possibly replace your necklace,” she said, tying it around his wrist. “But Happy Birthday, Rumple.”

Rumple stared at the bracelet for a long time, not even trying to hide his tears. Belle smiled and rolled over, backing into him so he knew that he was being requested to spoon her, which he promptly did.

In truth, he _did_ remember his birthday. And it wasn’t for several more months. But he decided then and there that this was his new birthday from then on, because it was the day he became alive again after so long of feeling dead. There was still a piece missing, but he felt more hopeful and confident than ever that he… _they_ would find Baelfire.

“Happy Birthday, Belle,” he whispered, and then for the first time in 200 years, Rumplestiltskin went to sleep.


End file.
